


The Things we Fear the Most

by Roxanne1123



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Friendship/Love, Romance, Slow Build, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-23
Updated: 2016-11-23
Packaged: 2018-09-01 19:55:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8636035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roxanne1123/pseuds/Roxanne1123
Summary: Caia Lavellan is a disaster waiting to happen. A disaster waiting to happen that finds herself with a mark on her hand capable of saving the world. A mark that Caia wants nothing to do with. She doesn't want to be a hero, the Herald, or special, all she wants it to fade back into obscurity. And with her life seemingly falling apart around her, it hardly seems like the ideal time to be falling for an elven apostate.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I'm pretty sure that nobody needs another Lavellan/Solas fic but alas here it is. First few chapters are pretty familiar content bear with because there is more exciting stuff to come.

**Chapter One**

* * *

Sharp, burning, foreign, these are the feelings that awaken me. A pain so intense that I cannot conceive where it has come from. Hand. Yes, the pain was radiating outwards from my hand. My eyes open slowly, they are heavy and despise the command. They catch green, a foreign strange light coming curiously out of my hand. Where was I? What had happened? Why could I not remember? The questions came in quick succession occupying my mind for but a moment until the next comes. I can answer none of them. My hands are chained, the walls around me are dark stone and suffocating, I am being watching carefully, cautiously, swords at the ready. Imprisoned that is what I am. But why? For what crime? Why could I not just remember? But I do remember, some things. The Conclave, the mages, the templars and the humans, the never-ending supply of humans. And what else? There was something at the edge of my mind but the more I reached for it the further it fled. I was running from things, that held the shape of animals, or where they animals? And a woman calling me, no that wasn’t right. She was reaching out to me, hand outstretched. The creak of the door chases the memory away, there is no use trying to catch it, it is gone.

The figures that step through are angry, no not both, one of them. The other is curious, questioning, dangerous. Who were they? Templars? No that wasn’t right, the armour didn’t match. The pacing of the first was off-putting, it struck nerves within me made me wonder if perhaps I had done something. Had I perhaps offended the wrong human or maybe it had something to do with the strange light on my hand. Magic, it had to be, it must be. But I did not possess magic, if once I had wished to be a mage it did not change the fact that I was not. The angry one circles around me, like a predator with prey, and perhaps this is what I am.

“Tell me why we shouldn’t kill you now?” the question comes close to my ear, the woman speaking directly behind my left side, the same side that radiates pain and magic. What could I say? I had no answers only confusion and questions, but the anger crackling from this woman had no interest in answering my questions. I try to summon the images again, if only I could just remember. Fear, running and what was the last one, hope, maybe.

“Everyone at the Conclave is dead, except for you,” these next set of words pierce through me. Dead? No that couldn’t be right could it? There was so many people there, I see their faces milling through my mind, a thousand strangers and I didn’t care for a single one of them and now? Now I cared a lot. How could I have survived? I was bad luck, accidents and disasters. The green light on my hand flares spreading pain and making my face contort unnaturally. I was still bad luck; I was still accidents and I was still disaster. For no good could come of this, this I knew. The woman grabs my hand, the magic does not spill over to her, it stays with me humming and waiting.

“Explain this,” she demands, more angered because of my silence, dropping the offending hand once more.

I open my lips to speak, my throat dry and protesting, my mind protesting, “I can’t,” I rasp. This was at least the truth. I bite my lip trying to hold back tears of desperation. I can be strong; I just have to remember how.

“What do you mean you can’t?” the woman retorts, her anger washing over me, the hooded woman is pacing around me now too. I am trapped, alone.

I take three deep breaths. One, this isn’t my fault. Two, I was going to be okay. Three, tell the truth, its all you have.

“I have no idea how that got there,” I say quietly, hiding the desperation and terror seeking its release. The pain is climbing again wrapping its way around me, it didn’t want to be ignored. It needed acknowledgement, but it wouldn’t get it, not from me.

“You’re lying,” she yells, reaching forward grabbing me, the hooded woman is quick, forcing the first away.

“We need her Cassandra,” she tells the other, her voice reason, eyes turning back to find me.

I met them, hoping to find understanding or mercy but met with only curiosity once more. She wanted answers, I did to, more than anything.

“I…I,” I stutter, don’t be weak I remind myself, “don’t understand what’s happening, none of this makes sense,” I tell them the words tumbling out without permission.

“Do you remember what happened, how this began?” she asks me and I stare downwards trying to focus on the memory that would not come.

“I remember running,” I begin, yes that was right I had been running, the movement had been clawing at my throat and side, “things were chasing me,” I had been afraid, “and then a woman,” hand outstretched, yes I remembered but still not enough.

“A woman?” the hooded one repeats, the curiosity leaking from her voice now. The woman was more intriguing that the rest of the memory. Why? I tried to focus on her, but the memory ran from me again.

“She reached out to me, but then,” I say to her, all I could remember spilling forth. Where was the rest of this memory? What dark corner of my mind was it residing? Did I even want to know the truth? Maybe, maybe not.

The other woman, Cassandra, yes that was it, steps in front of the hooded one, “Go to the forward camp Leliana, I will take her to the rift,” she tells her.

Leliana keeps her eyes on me, like a hawk with its prey along the ground. Cassandra’s words ate at me. Rift. What rift? What had happened? And the Conclave, everyone dead, why did that keep slipping from my mind. All those people dying, it was important, wasn’t it? Leliana nods, exiting as the other strode forward bending down to my level and unlocking the metal that bound me. Why did they need me? What had I gotten myself into this time?

“What did happen?” I question her, because I could no longer sit quietly knowing nothing. I could handle the chaos in my head for only so long.

She pulls me up, almost gently, less angrily, when had the anger left? And where had it gone?

“It will be easier to show you,” she tells me, her words hesitant as she secures my hand with ropes. She steps away towards the light and the outside and towards more problems. My problems? Maybe, probably. I follow her slowly, my legs refusing to listen to the commands of my mind the first few tries. I could hear their complaints, we hurt, you hurt, lay down. My mind didn’t want to, it wanted to be strong but my body disagreed.

The outside air was chill, sending spikes of cold along my skin and there was something else in the air. Something foreign but familiar. The sky was white and blue and green. No that wasn’t right. My mind searched for a reasonable explanation but the more it tried the more it failed. A swirling green hole in the sky, dangerous, foreboding and familiar. Why? My blue eyes searched downwards finding the pulsing green mark upon my hand. Were they connected? Possibly. Lighting strikes of sharp green light cracked through the air. I stare at it, wide eyed and confused.

“We call it the Breach,” Cassandra begins telling me, several footsteps ahead of me, “it’s a massive rift into the world of demons which grows larger with each passing hour. Its not the only such rift, just the largest.”

She turns back to me, her feet heading back to me and I stare dumbly up at the hole wondering if I perhaps wished hard enough it would go away.

“All were caused by the explosion at the Conclave,” she tells me, but my mind can hardly register her words.

“An explosion can do that?” I question, because it needed questioning. Explosions were loud, burning, and devastating, but they didn’t create rifts in the veil, they couldn’t. It was too damn scary.    

“This one did, unless we act the Breach may grow until it swallows the world,” as she finishes her words, the Breach cracks like thunder, a foreboding undertone accompanying the sound. The pain flared with a ruthless power, the green light flashing on my hand. I cry out, pain and fear marring my voice as I fall to the ground my legs unable to keep me standing. I force my hand into my body, willing the pain away with all the voices in my head. Be gone, be gone, I bid it.

Cassandra falls to her knee in front of me, pointing her hand to the glowing sky, the culprit behind this all.

“Each time the Breach expands, so does your mark,” the pause here is long, silent and fearful, “and it is killing you. We believe that the mark may be the key to stopping this but we don’t have much time.”

Killing me? It was killing me. Why was that what my mind focused on? There were bigger problems, the world had bigger problems. But I didn’t. I was dying, the pain was at least bearable if I could survive it, but if I couldn’t what was the point? Help, you must help. Of course, my clan would be endangered by this at the very least, I must help them. You must help everyone, a tiny voice whispers to me. Yes, everyone.

“How?” I ask, “how could I possibly stop this?” How could the mark possibly stop this? This was bigger than one person. Bigger than the magic pulsing from my palm. I was accidents, I would destroy the world before I fixed this.

“The mark may be the only way to close the Breach. Whether that’s possible is something that we shall discover shortly. It is our only chance however and yours,” she explains to me.

My only chance, the words race around my head triggering questions and complaints. For what? To escape execution? To save myself from this mark? Why me? Bad luck, my mind whispers. Yes, somehow my awful luck had got me into this mess and now they thought it was my fault. Fear and desperation cuts through me, clawing its way up my throat and seeking release. I swallow it back down, not now, must be strong.

“Do you really think I did this, to myself?” I ask her, confusion accompanying my words, because nobody who knew me could possibly think me possible of this. Who knew me. She didn’t know, nobody here knew me, they knew nothing of me. Except that I was Dalish. She probably despises humans; I can almost hear them whisper it.

Her gaze is full of anger and disapproval, “Not intentionally, something clearly went wrong.”

The understatement of the age, I couldn’t imagine anybody doing this intentionally. Had this been the accident of the true culprit, but then how did I become entangled with it.

“I didn’t do this, I wouldn’t do this, this was someone else,” I seek to plea, the words mingled with desperation that had no right to come out.

“Someone is responsible,” she agrees, “and you are our only suspect. You wish to prove your innocence; this is the only way.”  

Being the sole survivor was just no good, it was fraught with disaster. You’re alive. Yes, surviving was a blessing, it just wasn’t right at this moment. A deep sigh escapes from the realization that I had to do something overcoming me, not just for my own sake but for the world. Doubts ate away at me however, little voices hissing that I’d do something wrong, that I’d make it worse, but how much worse could it get? Tons worse.

I nod slowly, my inner thoughts escaping outwards, “I understand.”

“Then?” the word is a question, hanging in the air waiting for a confirmation or denial.

“I’ll do what I can, if I can help I will,” the words seem empty and wash away in the wind, but they are enough.

Cassandra leans forward pulling me upwards as she stands up, her hands against my back tugging my protesting body. It still demands rest, but no it won’t get any, at least no time soon. Maybe never.

She leads me forward, my eyes flickering around consuming the various images, this was the village of Haven. It had to be, there was no other place close enough to the Temple of Sacred Ashes. Eyes bore into me as we walk, hot gazes of hatred and anger. Guilty, guilty. That is what they thought of me.

“They have decided your guilt. They need it. The people of Haven mourn our Most Holy, Divine Justinia, head of the chantry. The Conclave was hers. It was a chance for peace between mages and templars. She brought their leaders together. Now, they are dead.”

There it was again, dead all those people dead. But not me. My mind was a blur of different emotions seeming to melt together in this mess until there was only two. Relief and fear. The edge of town was coming into view; my entire body breathes a sigh of relief as we pass away from the views of onlookers. Huge wooden gates drew closer and my mind conjures an image of running away. What would happen if I just ran? You would die. I chase the thoughts away as the gates creak open, they were no help here.

“We lash out, like the sky. But we must think beyond ourselves. As she did. Until the breach is sealed.”

Her words echo around the relatively quiet atmosphere of the bridge, almost peaceful, but the magic of the Breach hummed with the same frequency as the mark on my hand, coming together to create a foreboding feeling. We stop walking, body urges me to sit, mind scolds it once more. Cassandra comes round the front of me, producing a sliver knife shining as the light hits it.

The rope binding me is grasped and then cut, “There will be a trial. I can promise no more.”

She turns away from me walking ahead and expecting me to follow and I freeze. Frozen. A trial? That wouldn’t help me, who wouldn’t convict a Dalish elf. Run, just run. Where to? I look around at the bridge that holds us, at Cassandra’s back her steps furthering the gap. I couldn’t run, in the absence of ropes I was still bound. But I wouldn’t be forever. The Breach swirls in the air, dangerous and deadly. It held me here, compelled me to do what I must to close it. I hated it.

My feet race forward to make up for the distance that I have lost, “Where are we going?” I question her, my breath coming in huffs from my quick movements.

“Your mark must be tested on something smaller than the Breach,” she explains.

More questions swirled around my head begging release, pleading for answers but I shut them away one by one as we step off the bridge and to the snowy mountainous area that surrounded Haven. The chill of the air made my breath visible and my eyes focus on the puffs of air coming from me. Cassandra leads confidently and I think that if I just keep following her maybe it’ll all be okay. Even though I know it won’t. Sometimes lying to yourself was easy, sometimes one’s mind wanted to believe something so much it ignored all logic to the contrary. We move at a brisk pace, something akin to a jog and slowly my legs stop protesting, shifting into a form of acceptance.

The Breach flares once again and the pain from my palm sears through me, bringing me to the ground. My mouth is closed tight to hide away the scream inside. Cassandra turns to look at me, worry and concern painting her face, she needed me. I really was their last hope, or the mark was. The thought sends terror through me more off-putting than the pain. She helps me up, putting her hands on both my arms as she studies me. I breath out blowing brown strands of hair from my face.

“The pulses are coming faster now,” she comments, patting my arm in an almost friendly gesture, before beginning to walk again, “the larger the Breach grows, the more rifts appear, the more demons we face.”

Translation, the world had gone to shit. And people were depending on me to try and fix it. I didn’t fix things, if only they knew.

“How did I survive the blast?” I ask, the very fact I was standing here alive was confusing. If not for my own breath I might doubt if I still lived.

“They say you stepped out of a rift then fell unconscious. They say a woman was in the rift behind you, no one knows who she was. Everything farther in the valley was laid waste, including the Temple of Sacred Ashes. I suppose you’ll see soon enough.”

My mind accepted the information slowly, processing it separately and placing it in little boxes to open later. Another bridge opened before us, a few soldiers occupied the other side of it. We had almost reached them when a green angry violent blast hit the bridge, shattering the very ground we stood on. My arms swing as I fall, not far but still my body cracks and groans as I land on hard shattered stone, a frozen lake breaking my fall. I take a few breathes to try and shake the resounding pain from my body, my eyes catching the sight of a ball of green shooting from the Breach and exploding on the ice before us. My body moves while my mind fails, pushing itself up and moving myself away. The green light was charged full of magic and danger and it was changing before my eyes. What once had been a ball of green light was now a demon, letting out an unearthly growl.

A green light pulsed in it’s eyes as it stared me down. It wanted to kill me. Terror shot through me I was ready to run. Cassandra stepped in front of me, shielding me from it. “Stay behind me!” she yelled.

I was happy to oblige. I took a step back, giving her room to fight. Cassandra swung her sword with quick and firm movements, wounding the creature over and over. I looked around desperately for a weapon, I could not leave her alone in this. I spotted my weapon of choice, a bow, and quiver of arrows, resting on a crate about five feet away. I started towards it when a green light appeared in front of me, and quickly turned into a demon. I dived towards the bow.

The demon lashed out at me and hit my back. An involuntary cry of pain escaped my lips. My armour was light, and did not shield me from its sharp fingers. I snatched up the bow, and swung the quiver onto my back in one smooth movement. Thankfully the bow was already strung. The demon swung at my head, I ducked and felt the air above my head move. I gripped the bow, and nocked an arrow, pointing it at the demon’s one dull green eye. The string was taut, I pulled the string back, the muscles in my arm glad to be used in this way again. I loosed the arrow straight into his eye. It roared and lashed out, backhanding me into the crate.

Cassandra had finished hers and now turned towards mine, she was covered in it’s blood which was surprisingly just as red as mine. I nocked another arrow and pointed it up towards it’s blind face. Cassandra swung her sword into its back, it throws its head back in pain and I loosed my arrow into its throat silencing it forever. I take a deep breath, my hand holding tight to my bow, my thoughts slowing down as my mind realized the danger was past.

“Its over,” I breathe, stepping over to where Cassandra stands, her figure still tense in battle mode. She approaches me with angry steps, the point of her sword directed at me.

“Drop your weapon. Now,” her words are an order, one that I hesitate to disobey.

I hold the offending bow away from me, “Alright,” I murmur, though no part of me wanted to be defenceless again. Demons were falling from the sky; the reality was more terrifying than the thought had been. I needed to know I could defend myself but still the point of Cassandra’s sword still sent fear through me.

Cassandra sighs I can see the thoughts flashing across her eyes, “No its alright,” she tells me, sheathing her sword once more, “I cannot protect you, and I cannot expect you to be defenceless. I should remember you agreed to come willingly.”

Willingly, the word was an exaggeration, but one I preferred her to believe. The less she knew of my inner turmoil, the less guilty I seemed. I want to say something, acknowledge her trust in me but I can’t, the words get stuck in my throat and I know none of them will seem genuine. I didn’t even know if they would be genuine. It doesn’t matter, Cassandra has begun walking once more and all I can do is follow her. Follow her and everything would be okay. I clutch the bow in my hand, securing it to my back with the quiver, making sure it was easily removable at a moment’s notice. We fall back into an easy pace jogging forward along a frozen water path.

“Where are all the soldiers?” I question, realizing we had hardly run into any so far, it seemed strange with so many demons around.

“At the forward camp or fighting, we are on our own for now,” she informs me, leading us up onto a ridge.

It doesn’t take me long to identify the threats below us, my brain kicking into its fighting mode allowing me to leave my many questions behind. Two shades are below us, moving slowly in strange circles along the frozen lake, I watch them warily.

They had not spotted us yet, Cassandra leans forward on one knee, her quick eyes assessing the battleground and enemies. I pulled out my bow, and gave it a quick visual check. It seemed to be free from cracks and splinters, the wood was reasonably cheap, as far as bows go, but it would be serviceable for the next few battles. At least until I could find a better one, or someone to buy one off.  The string was taut and didn’t seem to stretch more than necessary, it would not come loose during battle. About the only lucky thing today.

“What’s the plan?” I quietly asked Cassandra.   


“You stay up here and start shooting. I’m going to sneak around the other side of the Shades. After you fire, and get their attention from up here, I will jump out behind them.”  


I swallowed, “Right, then. Let us begin.”

I watched, as Cassandra snuck around the Shades. Her sword drawn, and each step carefully placed.

I nocked an arrow and stared down the shaft at my target. The uglier of the two Shades, not that either was pretty. It seemed to sense Cassandra, but before it could turn to face her, I loosed my arrow at its head. I missed and hit it in the shoulder. It roared in rage and turned to face me, as did its friend. My ugly shade vanished in a puff of white smoke and reappeared feet in front of me. Before the other could follow Cassandra leapt out and slashed at it. Cassandra’s demon bellowed at her and distracted mine momentarily.

This moment allowed me time to nock and aim another arrow, it spun its ugly eye towards me and I loosed my arrow straight at it. The arrow stuck out of its face, it’s long-fingered hand tried to wrap around the thin branch of wood and wrench it free, while its other arm lashed out at me. I hopped back lightly and easily, laughing as the adrenaline rush surged through me. This was too easy.

In one smooth move, I nocked aimed and loosed another arrow at its face. It stuck in the creatures hand, going all the way through and pinning its hand to its face with a gruesome squirt of blood. The free arm clawed at my direction, catching my arm. I let out an involuntary squeal. Uh Oh. It knew where I was now. It rushed at me. I once again shot an arrow at it. I missed. My fourth arrow was the final one. I rolled along the ground, dodging its flailing limbs, and on one knee, I aimed up into its neck. The arrow did its job and I stood up wiping away the wet snow from my body.

Without the fire of battle to keep me going, I realized I was cold, freezing in fact. Yet, somehow the jumbled puzzle pieces of my mind were coming together. Maybe I could do this, maybe I could help with the Breach. Or you could ruin the world. It had done that all for itself, I reminded myself looking at the sky. I found my footing once more and ran down to meet Cassandra. She glances over me checking for damage as I do the same to her. I find no obvious injury and she finds none on me.

“We need to keep moving,” she tells me and I nod in agreement. We eventually find the path once more snow-covered steps leading upwards. Echoes of metal clanging and screaming could be heard now, the sounds of battle. I found I disliked them, I had always fought alone, the sound of others seemed distracting.

“We’re getting closer to the rift, you can hear the fighting,” Cassandra tells me.

“Who’s fighting?” I question, the soldiers, it would make sense.

“You’ll see soon, we must help them,” she replies, as we make it to the top of the many steps.

My legs were crying out for rest, my mind beginning to allow the confusion to cloud it once more. No, your strong, just be strong. I swallow down the fear once more, reaching behind to run my hands along the wood of my bow if I had this I would be okay.

Then I saw it and panic swirled in me again. The rift was a glowing green thing in the sky, suspended in the air and it resonated with the mark upon my hand. I wanted to run, I begin to back up before I look down and see figures fighting the demons and Cassandra rushing forward to help. I pull my bow from my back, testing the string as I run forward jumping off the wall that separated us from the rift and the demons. This battlefield was chaotic, my eyes to do a quick survey and decide which demon my arrow would do the most damage to. I decided on the one to my left, its movement were slowing and I knew it didn’t have much fight left in it, one well aimed arrow would finish it. I aimed quickly, watching with approval as the arrow embedded itself into its back. My arms turned to find the next one, running a few steps forward to get a better view of it. Just as I am about to pull another arrow, the shade is hit with an electrical pulse of energy sending it to the ground.

My eyes search the scene for another target, “Quickly before more come through.”

A hand grabs the wrist of my marked hand roughly, directing it upwards towards the rift in the sky. I try to pull my hand back but the mark on it connects to the rift with a life of its own. I could barely digest what I was seeing, a line of green light tore through the sky connecting the rift and the mark on my hand. My mark was pulling, taking, sucking away the power of the rift before the light exploded out and the rift disappeared.

My arm is dropped and flexed the marked hand, still humming with the energy it had used to, I didn’t know what exactly. My eyes turn to find the stranger who had directed the mark towards the rift, he was an elf and a mage, yes it had been his magic that had killed the second demon.

“What did you do?” I question him, my eyes stare at the green light on my hand, quietening down to its normal thrumming.

“I did nothing. The credit is yours,” he tells me.

I narrow my eyes because he was wrong, the credit wasn’t mine, “You mean this,” I say, opening my palm once more to look upon the strange magic on my hand.

“Whatever magic opened the Breach in the sky also placed that mark upon your hand. I theorized the mark might be able to close the rifts that have opened in the Breach’s wake and it seems I was correct.”

I close my palm again, ignoring the pain that was beginning to brim from the mark once more to stare at the elven mage. He seemed to smug about being right, maybe he had the right to be, the world would be saved. I was the one however who had to do the saving, and that was the problem.

“Meaning it could close the Breach itself,” Cassandra theorizes coming to stand beside me.

“Possibly, it seems you hold the key to our salvation,” the mage tells me and his words send horror through me. Why did he have to say it? Why me? Because if not you, you’d be dead. The options weren’t very reassuring. If only I could tell them, tell them that I was more likely to get them all killed. If only I could tell them and they would understand.

“Good to know. Here I thought we’d be ass-deep in demons forever,” the voice comes from behind me, I turn to find a dwarf approaching us.

I almost allow myself to smile, indulging in the thought that the non-humans outnumbered the humans before shaking my head. That shouldn’t matter but it did. It created a line between us all.

“Varric Tethras, rouge, storyteller and occasionally unwelcome tagalong,” the last of his words are accompanied by a wink directed towards Cassandra. There was a story there.

“Are you with the Chantry?” I ask him, unable to conceive another reason as to why he was here.

A chuckle sounds from beside me, “Was that a serious question?”

A blush threatens to surface, of course he wasn’t, crossbow wielding dwarves weren’t usually associated with the Chantry. Everyone knew that. Except me. I’d had so little experience with the world outside my clan, grasping such ideas wasn’t always easy for me. Especially not in my current state. I was barely beginning to think rationally again.   

“Technically I’m a prisoner just like you,” he informs me and the words bring me warmth. Maybe I wasn’t the only one stuck here, not the only one helping just to save themselves. That thought rushes through my mind leaving me surprised, was I truly only helping because I had to? Maybe, probably.

“I brought you here to tell you story to the Divine, clearly that is no longer necessary,” Cassandra explains.

The warmth disappears when I realize that our situations were not the same, he wasn’t accused of starting this, he didn’t have a mark on his hand capable of closing the breach in the sky, nobody was expecting him to fix things. Nobody was going to be disappointed when he messed up.

Varric shrugs at her words, “Yet here I am, lucky for you considering current events.”

“I’m pleased to meet you,” I say, my words breaking the tense atmosphere forming around all of us and closing in.

“You may reconsider that stance in time,” the mage speaks up again.

“Aww,” Varric replies, placing a hand upon his head in fake hurt, “I’m sure we’ll become great friends in the valley, chuckles.”

A smile begins to form on my lips at the both of them, there was a lightness in their voices, if I focused on it long enough maybe I could just forget everything.

“Absolutely not,” Cassandra commands stepping forward, “your help is appreciated Varric, but.”

“Have you been in the valley lately, seeker? Your soldiers aren’t in control anymore. You need me,” he counters as he interrupts, a smirk on his face as he makes his point.

“Ugh,” Cassandra complains stepping away not deeming his words worthy of a response.

“My name is Solas, if there are to be introductions. I am pleased to see you still live,” the mage introduces himself, as I turn my body in his direction.

“He means, I kept that mark from killing you while you slept,” Varric tells me.

I stare at him in surprise at the dwarf’s words, he had keep me alive. How long had I slept? How closing to killing me had the mark come? I should say thank you, I want to say thank you and maybe I would mean it but that is not what escapes from my throat.

“You seem to know a lot about,” here I pause for how could I find words to explain everything happening, “this,” I finally decide on, throwing my hands up to gesture the world around us. His knowledge was impressive and it drew me to him, I wanted to demand answers, I wanted to understand. The questions packed so carefully away started coming free and flashing through my mind, making it hard to catch a thought.

“Solas is an apostate,” Cassandra tells me.

“Technically all mages are now apostates, Cassandra,” Solas corrects her, his words reminding me how this entire mess started in the first place. Mages, templars and their endless feud. A feud they had dragged the entire world into.

“My travels have allowed me to learn much of the Fade, far beyond the experience of any circle mage. I came to offer whatever help I can give with the Breach. If it is not closed we are all doomed, regardless of origin.”

His words rang with truth, the Breach threatened everyone I was just beginning to understand that, but the idea just made me sick to my stomach. To come and offer your help freely, as well as being an apostate, he was better than me. I would have run.

“I guess I owe you a thank you then,” I say, my eyes meeting his, my words were sincere but my own guilt mingled with them making them seem hollow and forced.

He accepts my thank you with a simple nod, “May I inquire of your name?” he questions me.

I bite my lip, of course we were introducing ourselves, a part of me wanted to remain nameless. It was a stupid impulse but it was there all the same.

“I’m Caia,” I murmur, then louder, “Caia Lavellan.”

“A pleasure,” he says before turning to face Cassandra, “Cassandra you should know the magic involved here is unlike any I have seen. Your prisoner is no mage; indeed I find it difficult to imagine any mage having such power.”

I liked him I decided, his words implied I wasn’t involved, they helped put me in the clear, something I needed to be in desperately.

“Understood,” Cassandra says, “we must get to the forward camp quickly.”

She begins to march off and Solas is quick to follow her leaving me and Varric, “Well, Bianca’s excited,” he tells me before heading after them.

Words that might have meant something if I knew who Bianca was. I rub my hands together for warmth, the cold overcoming me once more. I pack away all the doubts, fear and desperation in my head, dispelling the memories that come with them. I could do this right, I could be strong, people would depend on me and I wouldn’t mess up this time. We’d be okay, I’d be okay, as long as I just stopped being so afraid.


End file.
